Looking in the mirror
Wanting to end my life
Blackness befell me
Wrists I cut with my knife.
The blood oozed out
Upon the bathroom floor
Was my death to be unseen
Behind a closed wooden door.
Three weeks earlier my lover
Had died,
I worshipped that woman
Thousands of tears I cried.
Bereavement of a love one
Is so hard to take
So slitting my wrists
Was not worthless mistake.
Some people say it’s a
cowards way out,
But you know what
I haven’t got to live with that.